


Misery Loves Company

by RobberBaroness



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: F/M, Past Abuse, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: The others can understand losing a loved one to Dracula.  They'll never understand being possessed by him.
Relationships: Mina Harker/R. M. Renfield
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Misery Loves Company

If they found us together, Mina thought, they would lock me up in here with him. Which wasn’t true at all; even if they’d had the power to have her committed, no one ever would have. Jack and Van Helsing and the others had been kind and supportive since her husband’s death, and most of all understanding. Understanding. That was the biggest joke of all. They didn’t understand anything.

Raymond Malclom Renfield (“Call me Malcolm. People used to.”) was the only one alive who could understand. When he reached out and touched the mark on her neck, he could respond with a list of the many and varied things Dracula had done to him. When she told him of how she hadn’t cried out because he’d threatened Jonathan’s life- a lie, the bastard had killed him anyway- he told her of all the nights he’d wanted to scream but could not, for reasons he could not articulate. When she told him she didn’t even hate Dracula because he must have had a story like hers once, he put his hand on her knee and said the man could be kind sometimes.

The others could know what it was like to lose a loved one to Dracula. They would never understand what it was to be used by him like a toy until they broke. She kissed the scar across Malcolm’s forehead where Dracula thought he had killed him that night when he’d fought to save her; instead, he’d only hurt his head (“What’s left of it,” said Malcolm,) and left a mark so similar to the one on her forehead. Touch of the vampire, touch of the communion wafer. It was odd how things lined up.

Perhaps she’d have a child. That would be good. She wouldn’t fret over whether it was Jonathan’s or Malcolm’s; it would be fathered by both. The men who gave their lives for her, or tried to. The men who had been used and discarded like broken toys by Dracula. The men she loved.


End file.
